Everlasting
by PinChajta
Summary: Will a passionate night of diehard trust, far-fetched truth, unbelievable beauty and everlasting love bring Peter Parker to the realization that he can't go on without Mary Jane knowing his identity?
1. Fall

Peter could look at his decision either way. Either he was going completely out of his mind or he had chosen the right thing to do. He was hoping it was the second one.  
  
Everything had made itself right, except for great loses. A madman had been put to rest, Aunt May was out of danger (with a replaced wall) Peter still resides with Harry, yet has no clue that he's living with the man that killed his maniac father and Mary Jane had gotten an apartment only two blocks away from Peter and Harry's apartment.  
  
And tonight was the night Peter would tell her. He had left her at the gravesite, by Uncle Ben the day of Norman Osborn's funeral, but all his fear of the next villain using his loved ones against him had made him stiff-lipped into telling her the truth. Peter loved her. She confessed in loving him back, but there was one factor in the equation that still kept him from her…Spider-man.  
  
And tonight was the night…  
  
Peter slowly slithered on his primary-colored identity and looking at his own reflection in the mirror one more time, he slipped the flexible mask of scarlet over his head. He went over to his window and perched himself on the ledge. Taking a deep breath, he shot out gossamer webbing and slung himself around skyscrapers, sighing all the way.  
  
Peter was sitting on the edge of the rooftop, staring down, across the way into Mary Jane's bedroom. Her light was shining through wan curtains that framed French doors leading out onto a balcony that was just one of a single row of balconies on that building.  
  
Mary Jane appeared to be tidying up before bed, since it was like…1:30a.m. She waddled around, seemingly tired. Peter kept watching until he noticed her rummaging through her top drawer, pulling out some pajamas. M.J. threw them on the bed and began to take off her shirt…  
  
Peter immediately snapped his head away but began to slowly turn back. He turned just in time to see her huddle up under the covers and switch off the light.  
  
'It's time,' Peter thought while the rest off his mind was going haywire. He shot webbing down and thank God she had the top balcony or else he would have slammed right into the one above hers.  
  
He planted his feet out and landed softly just above the door. Peter snapped free of the webbing and landed as softly as a cat right in front of her balcony door. Well, at least he had landed like a cat but he had completely and accidentally dragged his hands on the glass of the doors, causing an odd squeaking/scratching noise to admit from underneath.  
  
Peter cursed himself for being so fumbled but he accused his mind for making him act so for his mind was going a light-year per second. Once the light of her bedroom flicked on, he cursed out loud, back-flipped and landed on the cement railing of the balcony.  
  
But he was too late, for Mary Jane had opened the double doors and greeted him, "Hey…what are you doing here?" not at all unkindly but most curiously.  
  
He was in a crouching position, hands planted between his feet. The slight breeze pulled on the drapes and tugged them outside, lapping at M.J's feet and dancing around her body. Her claret hair was a little longer now, and swept across her pale skin of her collarbone.  
  
"Beautiful," Spider-man thought but realized he had said it softly instead. MJ heard.  
  
She flushed considerably but not as greatly as Peter was beneath his confinements of his mask. "Why, thank you for the compliment, Spider-man, but you have yet to answer as to why you're here."  
  
He stood up, walking along the thick, cement railing of the Mediterranean-looking balcony. Spider-man graced slowly to the corner, as if he were gathering his thoughts. He stood at the corner, but didn't turn, just stood there, staring down at the twinkling street, then tilted his head up towards the darkness. "Lovely…aren't they?"  
  
"Huh? Oh…the stars." M.J. grasped as to what he was talking about.  
  
"Yeah…but not as lovely as the star I barely see anymore…yet she's the brightest of them all," Spider-man said almost incoherently, but she heard.  
  
"So you've seen the posters, huh?" Mary Jane said almost ashamed.  
  
"No, actually…I saw the show…" he said, trying not to hint at all of who he is.  
  
"Oh really! Which night?" she sounded over-ecstatic.  
  
"Tuesday…" Spider-man answered without thinking.  
  
"I remember that night. I was having such a bad day, tripping on the stage and all, but everyone I knew showed up," Mary Jane spoke with a brilliant smile, "Harry Osborn, May Parker, her nephew Peter Parker…do you know any of them?"  
  
He paused, thinking of what he should say. "Yeah. I fought Harry's father…the Green Goblin." While he spoke he did a left-handed half- cartwheel into a handstand. He brought his feet slowly and gracefully through his steel arms until he could sit on the railing, facing M.J.  
  
"What about May Parker…and Peter? Do you know him Spider-man?"  
  
"Don't call me Spider-man," he mumbled with absolutely no emotion, it was as if he wasn't even there.  
  
"Then what do you want me to call you?" she asked somewhat seductively, taking a stride towards his legs.  
  
"Call me P…" he immediately stopped himself, hung his head and came back to reality, "Do you trust me?" He covered it as much as possible.  
  
She looked at him in confusion and tilted her head like a cocker spaniel. "Yes, of course I would trust you…you only saved my life." As if she was thanking him again, she placed her gentle hands on his knees, stepping in closer, placing herself between his legs.  
  
Peter visibly flinched and audibly gasped. He finally found his voice, "Then if you trust me…" he wrapped his arms around her tightly and leaned backwards, sliding off the balcony ledge, taking her with him… 


	2. Trust

Even though they were up forty stories, he only had so much time to react until the street stopped yawning and swallowed them whole.  
  
Spider-man released his right arm over his head as his eyes followed its path. He shot out gossamer webbing, snagging the top, far corner of her apartment building just in time so they swung just above the asphalt.  
  
The whole time, M.J. just stared at the masked man even though she was a little surprised at first, but never screamed.  
  
They rounded the corner and swung up onto the roof of the building, with Spider-man maneuvering himself so his feet were first to land, otherwise Mary Jane would have broken both legs from the impact.  
  
He encircled his absent right arm around her, gazing down at her, and asked her, "Do you still trust me?" He mentally kicked himself for sounding so husky.  
  
"Yes," she breathed out a breath she didn't know she was holding.  
  
"Good," and with that, he knelt down quickly and picked her up underneath her knees. She yelped at his quickness and clamped on tightly around his neck because he sprinted to the edge and jumped off.  
  
His right arm came free of her legs as he turned on a vertical axis so he could discharge webbing back to the same corner from which they had swung around before.  
  
During the swing M.J. maneuvered herself so that she had her legs bound around his slim pelvis. She couldn't really hear because of the wind blasting by her ears, but if she could at that moment, she would hear Spider-man's breath rapidly getting caught in his throat.  
  
Spider-man was losing concentration and everything was moving faster than a CD spinning. M.J. noticed him tensing, and just grinned to herself, somewhat overjoyed that she could have such an effect on the Amazing Spider- man. However, this effect was throwing Peter's agility and balance off completely…  
  
He disconnected from his strand of web and landed on the balcony, face down with Mary Jane around him still. Thank God he had the strength and reaction to land in a push-up position without crushing her like she was an insignificant bug.  
  
M.J. sighed contentedly and dangled from Spider-man's neck, which now made her back pressed against the cool slab of her balcony. But Spider- man kept his position, staring at her with unseen, trying-to-comprehend eyes.  
  
Mary Jane's lower half was still holding onto his, making her slightly uncomfortable at being partially lifted, so…she pulled him closer with her legs.  
  
Peter let in a stunned gasp as his lower half obliged with her gesture.  
  
M.J. knew she had to make the advances because Spider-man seemed…stunned. She slid her delicate hands down in front of Spider-man's neck, which was lifted up above her with the rest of his torso, and gently slid her thumbs beneath the collar of the mask.  
  
"Remember our first kiss?" she hummed softly. Spider-man nodded.  
  
Mary Jane lifted the mask to his chin.  
  
"N-not…completely…please," he whispered. M.J. nodded once. She lifted the crimson mask just to the tip of his nose.  
  
M.J. pulled Spider-man down ever-so slowly. Being this close, she tried seeing through his opaque lens, but it was no use. His hidden-eyes closed, as did hers.  
  
They placed their lips together, barely touching, barely feeling the extreme heat.  
  
Spider-man aligned his lips with her bottom lip, numbing it softly. Mary Jane incoherently moaned.  
  
They parted and M.J's eyes fluttered open.  
  
She couldn't take it anymore, same with Peter… 


	3. Obstacles

They came back together by courtesy of lips and ravaged each other. Tongues absentmindedly played with the other with vehemence. They both heatedly and attentively delve into each other's mouths, lining the other's teeth with their tongue.  
  
M.J. noticed Spider-man had begun to ever-so slowly grind deeply against her. She pulled him closer with both pairs of limbs to drink in the extraordinary feeling.  
  
Spider-man hands went to her hair and tangled them in, wishing he had no gloves on so that he could feel the velvety feel of her hair.  
  
M.J. slid down her hands roughly and strongly, yet not quickly, down the length of his sides. She noticed he was ticklish because when sliding over his upper pelvis, he arched his back, tearing his motion forward, tilting his head downward to keep the passion of the fiery kiss going.  
  
Mary Jane tore her nails on his upper thighs, mentally cursing that he had clothing on. Then she realized she too still had her pajamas on. Her short shorts and tank top was her obstacle, as was Spider-man's costume.  
  
M.J. managed to get Spider-man to roll over, so she was straddling his waist with her on top. She broke from the kiss and both panted in much- needed oxygen. M.J. sat up and placed her hands on his chest while both caught their breaths.  
  
Once caught, she sat up straight and lifted her tank top over her head.  
  
Spider-man, of course concealed, had eyes coming out of the sockets.  
  
"Wow," he breathed out.  
  
M.J. just seductively curled a finger for him to sit up as well.  
  
He obeyed as Mary Jane met him half way. Spider-man just leaned back on his arms as M.J. sat forward on her knees.  
  
Spider-man was aligned with her welcoming breasts. He gave one glance upward to her. She took his head in her hands and directed him to her right breast.  
  
He welcomed it with an open orifice, slowly suckling on it, drawing circles with his tongue, flicking the nipple with it as well. He had had it with his gloves, impairing him from reveling in the suppleness of her, so…he wrapped his arms around her so that he could tear off the clothing covering his hands from behind her. Once he did, he brought up his right hand to knead her bosom, making her arch towards the gesticulation.  
  
He switched sides while wrapping his left arm around her back. Leaning her backwards, he got up just as he wrapped his other arm under her bottom. She instinctively enfolded her legs around his lower torso. M.J. arched her back and rested her forehead on the top of his webbed mask.  
  
He walked through the ever-open French doors as he strode to the bed, placing her down gently. As he placed her, he transferred his mouth back to hers, leaning into her, making her lie.  
  
Spider-man retreated from her warmth and stood at the end of the bed, twisting his waist to check the outside of his thigh. Where earlier M.J. was digging her nails in, she had torn the costume in a tiger-like fashion.  
  
Peter inwardly shrugged and extended the micro-spikes in his fingertips, tore one hand across his chest, and shredded far enough so he could slid off the sleeves as if they were long-sleeved gloves. He ripped off what seemed like a collar around his neck and now stood bare-chested in Mary Jane Watson's room.  
  
"Your costume," she sounded disappointed at the work of art he just destroyed but didn't look at all disappointed when she gaped at the work of art that stood before her.  
  
She stood, never taking her eyes off his body. "Amazing…," she whispered.  
  
She looked up at him, grasped the back of his neck and drew him to her lips. M.J. explored his torso roughly, sketched her nails around his six-pack and massaged his sinuous neck.  
  
Mary Jane broke from his mouth and went across his jaw line. She licked his earlobe then began to suckle on it, making his breath torn and tattered. He just stood there and let her manipulate his body.  
  
Her hands travel down to his backside and ran her nails over the tightness, making Spider-man reacted passionately, groaning and thrusting against the body that was pressed up against him and now enveloped within his powerful arms. When he did so, she moaned and grinded against the straining organ under his tight confines.  
  
She couldn't take it anymore; here was Spider-man, the obsession of her life, standing bare-chested and at attention in her bedroom, with his taut muscles rubbing against her breasts and his body for the taking.  
  
Mary Jane spun them around and directed Spider-man to her bed. He bumped into the foot of the bed landed with a little spring back. Mary Jane crawled up to him gracefully, straddling his overwhelmed form.  
  
She leaned down and nibbled around his pectoral muscles, flicking a nipple with her tongue and suckling on it. Peter groaned when he felt her rubbing against his manhood.  
  
M.J. slid down his body and off the bed, digging her fingers into the slits she made in his thighs, and started tugging off his body-hugging pants, but stopped before she revealed him to her curious eyes.  
  
Mary Jane turned her head back up towards him. "Do you want to do this by moonlight?" she asked quietly.  
  
Spider-man licked his bottom lip, glad that he wasn't the only one insecure about this. So, he turned his head and left arm towards the light next to her bed and a familiar thwip sound came from his wrist, crushing the shade of the lamp, and its light. "Sorry," he apologized.  
  
"It's okay," Mary Jane reassured him, and then she was back on task. She tugged his pants off and gaped at the beautiful, masked creature below that was lit by the iridescent luminosity of the moon seeping in through the balcony doors.  
  
She bit her bottom lip to keep control from surrendering her virginity, but nonetheless she knew she wanted this too badly to let herself off the hook easily. And thanked her close friend for telling her to stay on birth control even after her days of Flash.  
  
Spider-man propped himself up, noting that she was a natural, deep red-head after she exited her shorts. She was immediately straddling Spider-man, just as before. Mary Jane quickly found his lips in the dim light.  
  
Peter could feel her heat, and choked every time there was a slight touch of her to him.  
  
Mary Jane broke the kiss and asked, "Do you trust me?"  
  
"Who couldn't?" And with that, she speared herself slowly onto her obsession… 


	4. Mask

She winced at the slight pain of being stretched and Spider-man saw the agony in her face. "You okay?" He asked innocently.  
  
"Give me some time," she grimaced through the pain and spoke the words agonizingly.  
  
They sat there, paused in time. M.J. just fixed her eyes on Spider- man's lower facial features as he sat, propped up, absorbedly playing with her bellybutton with his thumb.  
  
Mary Jane sighed blissfully and caught Spider-man's attention with that. He looked to her, and she smiled sweetly, took his hand and kissed his warm palm…  
  
That's when he noticed she began a leisurely rhythm. Spider-man flexed up into her, groaning starkly as she picked up the pace. M.J. grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up to her, as he gripped her hips, pulling her closer to him.  
  
She muffled a moan into his neck and suckled on it rampantly, raking her nails into his sweat-coated back, unintentionally drawing shallow, wine- colored slits of blood.  
  
Spider-man arched his back. He had never felt anything this indescribable before. She was so tight and scorching around him, and the sensation she was drawing on his back. His entire being spasm remarkably and he smothered his head in her moist neck, shutting his eyes tightly, and howled into the night with agonizing, excruciating pleasure.  
  
Just as his fluid flooded through her, she relished in the feverish feeling and had her first crushing orgasm, constricting around Spider-man's organ.  
  
They rested each other's foreheads together and panted for air. Once the world came back to its normal speed, Spider-man spoke.  
  
"My mask…you can," he gulped audibly, "take it off."  
  
"Are you sure?" she asked him as she held his head to look at her.  
  
He just licked his lips and nodded ever-so slowly. He took her by the lips and kissed her fervently. During the kiss, he could feel her hands slowly raising the mask off behind his head. Her fingers braided through his hair as she continued, with shut eyes, and slid the mask off completely.  
  
They stopped kissing, but had their lips touching still. He took deep breaths and didn't dare to open his eyes, but he could tell by his spider-sense that she was looking directly at him. He slowly opened his eyes and was greeted by her soft blue ones.  
  
Mary Jane chewed on her bottom lip as a single tear dove down her cheek.  
  
"Please…say something," Peter whispered, not taking his eyes off hers. He brought up a hand and swept away the single tear with his thumb.  
  
She just took his hand in hers and kissed the palm, never breaking eye contact… 


	5. Love

Mary Jane spoke quietly, "I-I…" she sighed as if assembling her words, "I always knew…that the two men that I loved…were the same person."  
  
"You knew all along?" Peter asked with confusion.  
  
She grinned sheepishly and admitted with a giggle; "Yeah…" she bit her lip trying to hold back the million-watt smile. "I could tell…by the way you kissed me…at the cemetery."  
  
"Oh," Peter said quietly as realization passed over him.  
  
After the moment passed, Peter said, "Are we going to stay like this all night, because like any other hot-blooded male I'm fine and dandy, but it just seems kind of…wrong…sitting here like…this?"  
  
"Well…" she licked Peter's lips, "like any other people, we could go to bed and sleep the rest of the night, or…" she leaned into Peter's chest and hummed in his ear, "we could continue our little activities, perhaps…after a hot…" she grinded once against him, and he groaned, "Steamy…" grinded again, emitting another noise from Peter, "shower." She grinded one last time, loving the feeling of him hardening inside of her like before.  
  
Peter just nodded quickly and stood up with her wrapped around him still.  
  
"That door," she pointed to the door next to the bedroom door. Peter paced over there and kicked open the door. "Don't put me down," she said muzzled against his neck, holding tightly to him, as if never wanting to let go.  
  
Peter flicked on the dimmer-light and put it on to a more romantic level.  
  
Peter glanced around the blood-red painted bathroom that was decorated with golden, opaque scones above golden framed mirror. The shower was designed with black tiles with blood-red grout, matching the walls, which had two shower heads of gold with see-through sliding glass. He observed all this within seconds, thinking the bathroom as dark and mysterious, yet romantic and a complete turn-on.  
  
"I like your bathroom." He said bluntly, nuzzling into her hair after she turned in his arms to turn on the hot water.  
  
"Thanks," she said as she tilting her head to his, taking his lips as he stepped into the rather large shower. M.J. didn't break from the kiss, but untangled herself from Peter's lower half, sliding off of him.  
  
The water poured down on both their forms, drenching their hair. They broke their kiss but still had each other's arms around each other. They placed their foreheads together as they caught their breaths. Peter trembled in M.J's arms, his body overwhelmed at all that it had experienced that night. Lost for words and lost in her beauty, he wasn't talking…at all, she tilting her head and asked, "Why so tense?" She took his hand and took a finger into her mouth. He came back from her beauty and wrapped an arm around her waist and slanted his head down to suckle on her ear.  
  
Mary Jane's free hand came down and found his rather erect member. He groaned and when she applied more pressure, he thrust into her hand. His hand that she was working on fell and traveled down to her tight bottom. Peter clenched it, making her rub up against him.  
  
After a steamy shower, they found themselves in the bed, in each other's arms, deep in sleep.  
  
Before that night, Peter had never understood the meaning of being exciting and terrified at the same time when looking into Mary Jane's eyes. He had said that he couldn't explain the many emotions he felt when around her, and he knew he couldn't say that he loved her because of what might happen…but now he knew the truth: that he was more than a friend and he had more to offer her than that: enduring, eternal, everlasting…love.  
  
The End 


	6. After

Peter awoke to the smell of Mary Jane's hair: sweet like raspberries yet spicy like the smell of sex and sweat, absolutely indescribably perfect in Peter's mind. M.J. had her back nestled up against his chest and he had his arms around her, protectively.  
  
The morning light pierced the room, making it a bright golden color, leaving it feeling salubrious and fresh when the cool breeze was added to the radiance.  
  
Peter kissed her shoulder blade, but regretted in doing so because he woke her. Her hands caressed his arms he had around her, and then pivoted in them to face him.  
  
"Good morning," Mary Jane said in a very weak voice.  
  
"Morning," Peter whispered before taking her lips to his, but after succumbing herself to his lips, her hand made quick way to her mouth to cover them. A vulgar and crude taste bit through M.J's entire system, gnawing on her stomach and throat.  
  
Mary Jane's eyes shot open in…terror, shock? Peter could not tell but he asked immediately, "What's wrong?"  
  
She didn't answer but shuffled out from under the covers and stumbled to the bathroom, throwing her dinner into the porcelain structure.  
  
Peter made quick way to the bathroom door, only to find her curled in the corner near the toilet, tears cascading down her face.  
  
"I-I can't," she choked, huddling her legs into her arms trying to cover her naked form.  
  
Peter grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his still naked lower half before he got one for M.J., covering it over her to comfort her after her pitiful attempt to conceal herself from his ever-respectful eyes.  
  
"It's my entire fault," he knelt down, trying to look her in the eyes, "I didn't use a condom, it was just spur of the moment."  
  
His quick explanation got through to her but she didn't accept because she didn't want to blame him, "No Peter, it's not." She looked up, starred straight into him and violently wiped away tears. "I was on the pill," she took a deep breath, "It was supposed to work." She paused then dug her nails into her knees, and screamed like a schizophrenic desperately trying to prove the point that their not crazy, "IT WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK!"  
  
Peter bowed his head after she tore herself from the blood-curdling scream back to crying. He thought for a long, hard moment for anything that could bring Mary Jane out of this paroxysm of overwhelming emotions and blame she put on herself. "M.J…." he halted, gathering his thoughts and placing them into words, "We don't even know if it's for sure…some women have morning sickness no matter if they're pregnant or not."  
  
His words made sense to her. "But," she took a deep breath, "What if I am?"  
  
"Wait," Peter said reassuringly, placing his hands on her shoulders, "We could test you, but nothing will come up clearly for like a week."  
  
Mary Jane's face contorted curiously, "How do you know all this?"  
  
"Weren't you paying attention to Sex Ed?"  
  
M.J. gave a faint smile then her face twisted into deep thought, mingling up a question she didn't want to know the answer to, "What if I am pregnant, Peter?" 


	7. Sense

(For questioning or critical reviewers: You must understand that it is the next morning, about nine of the clock or so. Yes, it is feasible for M.J. to have morning sickness that early because there is something called Emergency Contraception. EC happens when there is some kind of accident with your birth control (the condom breaks, slips off, or birth control pills fail with your body type) and you have had unprotected sex against your free will and you are 100 percent sure that you do not want to be pregnant, the morning-after pill was invented. With the morning-after pill, it must be taken within 72 hours of the unprotected sex. The way some women tell whether they're pregnant or not, and this is mainly on heredity, is that they have morning sickness. Not all women throw up immediately after, the morning after or even the week after; it's mainly based on whether your female genes are prone to reacting after sex. Thank you for your time.)  
  
"M.J…" Peter tried to sound comforting, "What if you aren't?"  
  
"Don't be so optimistic, Pete," Mary Jane sounded a bit testy; "Why else would I throw up after a night like that?" She starred right at him, searching for an answer that never came, "Why else?"  
  
Peter thought, but didn't formulate a legitimate answer, "I don't know." He dropped his head in defeat over simple intellect.  
  
There was a moment of silence, too long for Mary Jane to sit on the cold tile any longer so she stood up, making way for the door and keeping her back to Peter even though he pivoted in his position, "It's not your fault."  
  
Peter stayed planted to the lavatory floor, pondering everything that had occurred in the last fourteen hours: What if she is pregnant? She doesn't blame me but I'm still responsible for what happened. What if she is…she doesn't have to have a child because her pill failed on her. She could use the morning-after pill…or…get an abortion…or use the abortion pill, what was it called? RU-468? Well…it's completely her decision, not mine…but I feel so guilty, so…  
  
"Hey," M.J. said weakly, peering into the bathroom, "You want to make me some breakfast?"  
  
With a feeble smile received from her, Peter stood and went to the doorframe where she stood. "I was thinking…and concluded that if you are pregnant…it's completely your choice whether you want a child or not, and I'll back you up, either way."  
  
Mary Jane smiled softly and said quietly, "Okay."  
  
With that, Peter kissed her on her forehead and headed out of her room for the kitchen, after he put on an oversized pair of M.J's sweats, which still didn't fit him comfortably…  
  
Down in the kitchen, Peter rummaged through the refrigerator for eggs, milk, some form of juice and went to the counter for bread.  
  
Flipping eggs, making them over-easy, Peter's spider sense screamed at him. He turned off the stove and quickly twisted his body, glancing rapidly around the room…no threat. Where was it coming from?  
  
"Mary Jane…" Peter whispered harshly to himself.  
  
Peter sprinted up the stairs, skipping about four at a time. "Mary Jane!" He exclaimed as he slid past her door, still on his feet.  
  
"What's wrong, Pete?" Mary Jane looked at him quizzically from her perched position on the bed.  
  
He scanned her body quickly…no faults. His head spanned towards the window, sirens blaring through the open French doors.  
  
Peter looked back at M.J. "Go," she whispered.  
  
He nodded, and then sprinted to the window, leaping out with grace, connecting to the building across the street with a strand of webbing.  
  
Peter followed the sirens, finally noticing that he didn't have a costume on to conceal his identity as his bare arm met his eyesight.  
  
He retreated from the chase, only to swing into his apartment and grab the old red sweater and blue sweats he had wore on the day of Uncle Ben's death.  
  
Once attired, he leapt back out into the streets of New York…  
  
Harry was home, but from a rough night had fallen asleep on the couch. He awoke to a thump that came from Peter's room. "Pete?" Harry called groggily.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Pete? Is that you?" Harry called a little louder, exiting the warmth of his position on the sofa.  
  
Harry made way up the wooden stairs to Peter's room. He opened the door to find a pair of pink sweats on the floor, striped with baby blue down each side. Harry's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. 


	8. Paranoid

By the time Peter got back from the chase, he landed on M.J's balcony, looking in at a dismal-looking Mary Jane. She had her knees huddled up to her chest, embedded in her arms with her head bent down. She looked up once she heard Peter speak, "You okay?"  
  
M.J. nodded and put on a weak smile.  
  
Peter was burning up in his sweater, so he discarded it over his head, tossing it on the bed, then spoke, "Do you still want that breakfast?"  
  
Her smile widened, just merely and answered, "That would be great."  
  
Peter turned with an "okay" and headed out the bedroom door and down the stairs starting the fire up on the stove again.  
  
Once Peter got back, M.J. was sprawled out on her bed, on her back with her head hanging over the foot of the bed. She was clothed, but Peter hadn't registered it earlier, in flood jeans that were cut off and an off-white peasant top that was loosely long-sleeved and tight at the abdomen. Her arms hung above her head, playing with her fiery red hair.  
  
Peter absorbed the pleasant sight before him, and then spoke up, "I hope you like your eggs over-easy."  
  
"My favorite," Mary Jane spoke with a little more flavor to her voice than she had before.  
  
Peter handed her the plate as she slid off the bed and out onto the balcony. As she sat down at the small table out there, she said to Peter, "Why do you think I would.you know.throw up, so soon after last night?"  
  
Peter was leaning against the railing, across from and facing M.J. as he answered, "I really don't know M.J. Maybe it's my anatomy," he shrugged, then it seemed like he was talking to himself, "Well . . .no. Most spiders don't lay eggs for up to twenty days, but some African species lay the eggs right after mating . . .but I doubt the research facility used African spiders."  
  
Mary leaned in while eating because Peter was talking in such a low mumble. She tried grabbing his attention, "Peter . . ." He still mumbled on about African spiders and their mating habits. Mary Jane tried a bit louder, "Peter . . ."  
  
She stood when she wasn't getting a reply from the young man that seemed so wrapped up in his mind exploration for previous and stored information on spiders. Grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes, M.J. said sternly, "Pete." That got his attention, for now all his attention was held in his eyes. She continued, "Peter, I don't think anything would have happened this soon. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet."  
  
"But why else would your body react that way?" He actually raised his voice an octave at her.  
  
"Pete, are you yelling at me?" Her voice didn't waver from the stern.  
  
"I-I," His mind was reeling too fast for his words, so he took a deep breath, "No. I wasn't yelling at you, Mary Jane. I'm just concerned for you, that's all."  
  
"Then, if you're so concerned," looking at his eyes, she could tell he was truly concerned-full of care and asking for forgiveness, "I'll go to the hospital and see what's up. Okay?"  
  
Nothing fell away from his eyes but something close to terrified filled them to the edges of the orbs. "But what if the doctor picks up the strand of spider DNA? What if there's a baby spider growing in you? Or even a sac of baby spiders? Oh God! What if you die like any other female spider after laying eggs?! What if you lay eggs instead of giving birth?!"  
  
"Peter!" That stopped his two-second attack of unreasonable questions that M.J. questioned as to how somebody could get in so many questions so quickly. She calmed herself with a sigh, "Peter, what if . . .what if I'm NOT pregnant? I think I should go to find out or else I'll have to resolve matters otherwise because you're being too paranoid."  
  
"I'm not paranoid," he said to Mary Jane retreating form.  
  
"Sure," she said longingly and teasingly.  
  
Peter glanced down at M.J's plate, "Hey, you barely ate."  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm not very hungry," she said, gathering her feet under her in a cross-legged fashion and picking up the phone.  
  
Peter immediately noticed her action. "What are you doing?" He asked at lightning speed as his eyes widened.  
  
"Calling my doctor, seeing if I can make an appointment. Why?"  
  
He took a deep breath and pursed his lips in frustration, then turned out towards the city, and mumbled to himself, "I'm not paranoid."  
  
While waiting on hold, M.J. called towards Peter's form that leaned against the railing with his back to her, "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself." She couldn't help letting out a giggle at the end of her sentence but stopped immediately once the doctor picked up . . . 


	9. Realization

While ending the conversation with her doctor's receptionist, M.J. looked down next to the phone with at a piece of paper that said 'Call Harry' and his cell number. She furrowed her eyebrows together once she was put on hold by the receptionist.  
  
'What is this? This isn't my writing . . ." she questioned the piece of torn paper.  
  
Then realization dawned on her . . .  
  
. . . a terrifying realization that could bring her whole world collapsing down around her. No. Not collapsing. Her world would be wounded beyond repair . . .  
  
The young woman gasped, trying not to catch Peter's attention, which transformed into a taxing sigh. When the receptionist came back on the phone, she asked with more urgency then before if she can have an appointment as soon as possible.  
  
Once all was resolved on the phone, she got up and walked over to Peter, who was still looking out over the city.  
  
"Pete?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
'I need to tell you something . . .' she thought to herself, but restrained it from becoming words and said, "I got an appointment at one."  
  
By then, she had joined him at his side and only turned her head to talk to him. He regarded her with a gentle smile, "Great, I'll take you then . . ."  
  
"No," she shot quickly, but calmed herself in hopes for Peter not to get suspicious, "No, I rather go by myself."  
  
The hero regarded her awkwardly and slowly, "Okay . . ."  
  
Mary wanted so badly to give Peter an reason for her going to the doctors alone, and one not quite so legitimate but reasonable excuse came out quickly, "I don't know how long it's going to take, so the doctor might think you're an irresponsible father if you running off to save New York."  
  
He sighed, "I guess you're right."  
  
'That worked well,' M.J. breathed in deeply and straightened up, leaning back while holding onto the railing.  
  
That's when she noticed little, miniscule lines of dried blood standing in rows on Peter's back.  
  
"Oh my gosh, did I do that?"  
  
"Do what?" He felt her trace a line tenderly, "Oh. Yeah you did that last night."  
  
"Oh Pete . . . I didn't mean to . . . do they hurt?"  
  
"No not at all . . . well, actually; it's kind of invigorating."  
  
Mary Jane smiled down at him as she slid her palm over to his side and give it a little squeeze, making him jolt up.  
  
"Hey!" He masked a laugh, "How'd you know I was ticklish?"  
  
"Learned it last night," she smiled at the lovable man before her, "Well, I better be going now, my appointment's in thirty minutes and it'll take me at least twenty to get over to the doctor's."  
  
She gave Peter a quick kiss on the lips and said goodbye heading out her bedroom door . . . 


	10. Here

Mary Jane now sat in a cab on the way home from the doctor's office. With multiple patients heading in and out of there all day, it was no wonder that they wouldn't have test results until the end of the day. That meant that they would call—that meant she would have to beat Peter to the phone if he were to be around.

The cab stopped once she realized she was in front of the pale gray building of her apartment complex on Soho. She walked up her stairs with plenty on her mind only to realize that Peter was nowhere to be found. She was actually a little relieved—now she could call Harry.

She dialed his number and he picked up with brooding in his voice, "Hello?"

"Hi Harry, it's M.J. How are you doing?"

His voice came up an octave, not as to alarm her to his depressive state, "Oh hi. I'm fine. I was wondering when you were going to call."

"See, that's the funny thing. I don't remember writing the message down to, in fact, call you and I really can't recall the last time I actually spoke to you so I..."

Harry stumbled into her sentence, "The last you spoke to me was about a month ago M.J. I can't believe you don't remember," he started chuckling to himself, "We were at the Theatrical Gala in the theatre district?" She didn't seemed to be catching on after he paused a moment, so he continued, "We went to dinner after Pete didn't show? Had chow mien...and a lot to drink?"

A blurred image stirred through Mary Jane's mind. Washes of cheesy music and wine glasses flowed over her. She started to feel dizzy, "Harry, I..."

"You kept going on and on about how Pete was never there for you and how when he finally was, he wasn't going to stay. "He never stays!" you said, just like that. Just like that. But ol' Harry stays around. Yeah, I stay around. You even thanked me for staying around..."

M.J. felt like she was going to throw up. She fought the bitter taste in her mouth, dropped the phone to the floor and ran to the bathroom.

"M.J? Hello—are you there? M.J?" Harry called over the receiver.

"M.J? Where are you?! Are you okay?" It was Peter.

Mary Jane looked up from where she so feebly sat on the ground by the toilet to see Peter with a worried expression on his features.

"Oh God," she whispered out loud.

"What? Are you okay? What happened?" Peter was looking around frantically for God only knows what...and looked at the phone on the floor. He picked it up and just put it back on the receiver. He came down to her side and brought her into his arms, "It's okay, I'm here."

'But I told Harry you never were...' she thought. "I just got back from the doctor's. They are going to be calling later tonight."

"So we won't know anything until later. Okay. I think you should just rest and wait it out until then." She simply submitted to him as he effortlessly picked her up and walked her over to the bed. He placed her down but she didn't want to let go.

"Thank you," she said, finally releasing her grip from around his neck. Mary Jane didn't realize until now that she was so exhausted from everything going on, even if most of it was mental panic; she quickly fell into comatose as Peter headed out to the living room to read.

He was only a couple of chapters into _East of Eden _when he heard the door knock rather loudly. Peter rushed to it in hopes not to wake M.J. He opened the door to find Harry, confused and tired, looking straight back at him.


End file.
